Mini Ficlets
by BlackFox12
Summary: A selection of mini ficlets for Spanking World on Livejournal. All contain spanking in some form or other. Twelfth for BBC's Henry IV Part One. AU. Hal reveals to Hotspur his father's offer of surrender. Despite Hotspur's reluctance to believe in Hal's promise, Hal 'persuades' him. And now it really is over.
1. Structured Guidance

**Structured Guidance**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the Marvel comic universe and I'm not making any money from this fic

 **Summary:** Follows Family By Blood. Gabriel is struggling.

 **Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers for anything to do with the three Summers brothers in the X-Men comics; AU

 **Verse:** Comic

 **Author's Note:** Written for the mini-ficlet challenge at Spanking World on Livejournal.

* * *

"What did he do this time?"

From his position in the corner, Gabriel could hear the note of exasperation in his oldest brother's tone. He sighed as he watched the wall and waited to hear Alex's response.

"He tried to stop a new villain. On his own. No backup. Then lied to me when I asked him how he got hurt. Figured we _both_ needed time to calm down, so that's why he's standing in the corner." A more wry note slipped into Alex's voice as he added, "He's lucky I brought him here before I said anything."

Gabriel wasn't sure he could call himself lucky. While it did sound like Alex had calmed down, being calm meant he was going to have to face _both_ of his big brothers.

As if Scott had read Gabriel's mind, he called, "Gabriel? Come out here."

Taking a deep breath, Gabriel turned round to face his brothers... both of whom were looking at him with almost identical expressions of disappointment. It was a look he was seeing often, but no matter how many times he put it there, he couldn't seem to curb his own behaviour.

Alex was seated on his own bed, closest to the corner Gabriel had been using. Scott stood just to the side of him. Wearing the glasses normally made it impossible to tell what he was thinking... only the fact that Gabriel knew his brother's posture so well by now giving him any insight into his oldest brother.

He knew what was about to come, but he wanted to get it over with and walked, dragging his feet, towards his brothers.

"So?" Alex's voice was serious... even stern.

Gabriel tried not to squirm as he remembered being sent into the corner to 'think about why you keep putting yourself in danger'. If anything, it was more embarrassing to have both of his brothers there... not to mention, he wasn't sure if Scott intended to take him in hand along with Alex. "I don't know?"

"Gabriel." Scott stepped forward, drawing his gaze. "I can safely speak for Alex when I say that neither of us enjoy punishing you, but you've been putting yourself in unnecessary danger since we brought you back here. Since Alex freed you."

Gabriel was aware of how much he owed his brothers and Alex in particular. He didn't need Scott to reiterate it. He was also aware of how much he'd put them through while he'd been possessed by the living planet. Not just them... but everyone else. He couldn't think of any other way to make amends for what he'd done apart from to throw himself into doing good.

When Gabriel didn't say anything, Alex sighed and raked a hand through his blond hair. "Okay, kid. Here's what we're gonna do. I'm going to take you over my knee for a warmup. Then Scott's going to finish with a few strokes from his belt. Maybe that will help remind you to think next time."

Apart from the flat of his own blade being used, Gabriel had yet to be spanked with any kind of implement... even though he was aware it was a possibility. He couldn't help but tense up, trying hard not to resist as Alex took hold of his arm. He stepped closer to his brother and felt Alex tug him across his lap.

This was a position becoming far too familiar to him.

Gabriel couldn't help but bury his head in his arms as Alex lowered his pants and underwear. He jumped when the first smack landed hard... and bit his lip to stop a sharp cry from escaping when a second fell.

Alex spanked hard, going from the crest of Gabriel's backside down to his thighs before starting over from the top. Despite having decided not to fight the punishment, Gabriel couldn't stop squirming around... gasping quietly with each hard smack.

He couldn't understand it. In a fight, he could work through an injury. But when one of his brothers took him in hand? It didn't take much to reduce him to helpless tears. It wasn't as if it was truly that painful.

No. What hurt worse was the weight of their disappointment.

Gabriel was close to true tears when Alex stopped, his backside stinging terribly. He felt Alex stroke his back and then stand him up. He was surprised to find himself guided over Scott's lap... but that was quickly forgotten when the first burning stripe landed. He hissed out a breath and threw his hand back, but found it quickly moved out of the way and pinned against his spine.

The leather continued to fall, drawing tears to Gabriel's eyes at the force and speed. His entire world shrank down to the feel of the belt... his brother's legs under him; the hand that held tight to his, stroking gently and reassuringly.

Gabriel went limp over Scott's lap, crying so hard, his tears threatened to blind him. He was only dimly aware of being held... rocked, like he was a child once more. Not that he'd ever _had_ a childhood.

"It doesn't matter how guilty you feel." Alex was embracing him from behind, his voice a soft whisper in Gabriel's ear. "We're not going to let you get yourself killed. Every time you put yourself in danger, this will happen again."

Gabriel wondered if he shouldn't feel relieved... but his brothers' understanding was enough to allow him to calm down; to accept comfort from Alex and Scott, even though he didn't think he deserved it.

Maybe one day, he'd feel like he could.

 **The End**


	2. Past Encounter

**Past Encounter**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the movie Deadpool and I'm not making any money from this fic

 **Summary:** Set before the movie. Colossus and Deadpool have a previous encounter

 **Warning(s):** Spanking (kinda); spoilers for the movie Deadpool; some violence; crude language; crack!fic

 **Author's Note:** The second ficlet written for this month, this was actually inspired by a picture that can be found here: www . art /The-Proper-Way-to-Carry-Deadpool-590591063 (Just get rid of the spaces). Not work safe.

* * *

"Ow, hey! Those aren't love taps!"

Deadpool had been in a great many strange positions, both before and after he could audition for a spot as the red power ranger. But slung over a metal giant's shoulder, with his spandex-clad backside swatted by said giant? Well, tthat was something else he could cross off his bucket list.

The blood was rushing to one part of Deadpool's body and not in a good way. Trying to raise his head just made Colossus swat him again. Kicking and punching at the giant just broke his bones; and while Deadpool had no problem chewing his own hand off to escape a trap, he couldn't see that helping in this instance.

"Stop fighting and it will be easier on you," Colossus drawled.

"You mean your dick? Don't know about you, but I don't swing that way!" Colossus' shoulder wasn't exactly easy to be slung over. With each step he took, Deadpool's body bounced up and down. "You know, caveman-style is _so_ last season. You treat all your dates this way? Just like a metal giant James Bond, right? Shaken _and_ stirred."

"Be quiet."

"I'm not sure I remember making that promise, but if you put me down, I'm sure I'll get a refresher." Deadpool's body jerked as Colossus, clearly deciding he didn't like the smart-arsed comments, swatted him extra-hard. "Ow! You're going to break my ass!"

"Doubtful."

"Enjoy the view. It isn't going to last, so don't worry about me. Just you wait. There's going to be a crisis. Maybe involving Wolverine. Almost certainly with innocent people about to get hurt..."

"You are not a fortune teller, Deadpool."

"It's rude to butt into a conversation. Nearly as rude as you throwing me over your shoulder, in fact. You have to _listen_ when someone says no."

Colossus merely grunted in response.

Deadpool continued, needing to fill the silence. "Can't be afraid of rejection, you know. Not that you're my type. Too much metal in all the wrong places, if you know what I mean. Ow!" he added helpfully. "Do you even realise how hard that metal hand is?!"

"You will heal."

"Doesn't mean it doesn't _hurt_." Deadpool resumed addressing his invisible audience. "I'm not really in any danger, so don't call the cops. Not that you would, of course. Don't want to get _me_ arrested."

"If you continue like this, you will suffer much worse than being arrested."

"You know, I _really_ think this might qualify as one of those 'much worse'."

"You need help, Deadpool," Colossus said seriously. "And you can be a good person... a hero. If you let go of this desire for vengeance and work with the X-Men, you can be a valued part of the team."

"I'm more of a lone wolf. Besides, I'm no hero."

"I believe you can be."

"Well, I believe in reality," Deadpool stated. "And my reality is that I'm trying to find this guy named Francis. So unless you're planning on helping me track him down so he can fix me? I'm not going with you."

"I haven't given you a choice."

"Yeah, but don't you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Oh, I don't know... the sound of a gang of robbers about to break into a bank. Probably about to hurt a whole load of people." Deadpool had his head raised and was staring down over the bridge, watching the very scene he was describing.

"You're lying."

"Half of the time." Deadpool thought about it. "Three-quarters of the time. But not right now. Turn round... but not too fast. Have you ever tried to clean vomit out of a mask? It's really not fun. Blood's easier to clean. Especially when you wear red. Though do you bleed? Or is it liquid metal that comes out? Can _anything_ penetrate your skin?"

Colossus didn't answer, but Deadpool felt him spin round. It was nearly impossible to be sure, but Deadpool thought Colossus tensed up under him. "You could leave me here... we can do this dance some other time."

"This isn't over." Colossus set Deadpool on his feet and turned away.

"Make sure you bring handcuffs next time!" Deadpool hollered after him.

 **The End**


	3. Damaged Beyond Repair

**Damaged Beyond Repair**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the Marvel comic universe and I'm not making any money from this fic

 **Summary:** Set after Civil War. Tony comes to see Steve in his holding cell

 **Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers up to the Civil War arc; some mentions of violence

* * *

He couldn't blame them.

These were people he'd worked with; fought alongside. They'd been more than allies. They'd been _friends_... and now they were wary of him; and rightly so, given the war they'd been caught up in.

But it wasn't even the SHIELD agents who were the source for how bad he truly felt.

Steve had lost track of how long he'd been in the holding cell for. He could easily break out. The cell wasn't impenetrable; not to his serum-induced strength.

The memories of the dead were what held him in place. He might not have killed Goliath himself... but he knew it was his ultimate responsibility. The look of hope on Tony's face... that he'd _killed_... was very nearly the worst of that whole day.

"Why did you do it?"

Steve wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there for before he became aware of Tony's presence. He locked eyes with the man he considered a friend... a _brother_. "You know why. _We_ can take care of ourselves. With our identities known? The people we love are at risk."

"I could point out the amount of people who have been hurt or killed. Innocent civilians. But I don't want to keep going round in circles. And that wasn't what I meant." Tony stepped closer, almost to the reinforced wall that separated them. "Why did you give yourself up?"

Steve was silent for a moment. "I couldn't face any more death."

"I don't think the war's over." Tony's voice was bitter. "And Goliath isn't going to be the only death." His voice dropped as he added, "But... he was the first one of us..." His voice trailed off and he sank to the floor outside the cell, placing his hand against the wall. "I didn't want anyone to have to die. That was never what I intended."

"It wasn't just about you."

"Yeah, but you're Captain America."

"Not anymore."

The silence that fell between them was filled with heartbreak and broken promises. Steve didn't know what to say. He didn't know why Tony was here... sitting outside his cell. He wasn't sure what the other man wanted from him. Was he looking for his childhood hero? Steve wasn't sure he'd _ever_ been that guy.

"I'm sorry."

Steve looked at Tony. "I think we both did some bad things."

"Yeah, but do you remember what it used to be like? After you found out who I was?" Tony asked. "You..." He cleared his throat. "I know you might not be my friend anymore, but... I have no one else to turn to."

Steve closed his eyes. His first thought was to tell Tony he couldn't do this anymore. That he had his own guilt to deal with... and he was too broken up inside to be responsible for anyone. And yet... when he looked at Tony, everything fell away. It was like they were back in the Avengers and their friends _weren't_ at each other's throats.

And Tony was feeling guilty. And Steve was remembering his friend hadn't had much in the way of guidance or family. No matter how good Jarvis was, he wasn't father material...

"This isn't going to change that we're on opposite sides," Steve said. "But... if you need my help? You know how to get in."

Tony nodded and let out his breath in a quiet sigh. He placed his hand against the scanner and stepped into the cell as the door slid open. He then paused, staring at Steve... who looked right back at him. "I don't think I'm the right person to do this." He moved back so that he was resting against the wall and then paused, waiting, looking at Tony.

"I think you're the only one I can trust to do this. The only one I ever did." Tony kept eye contact with Steve as he walked to his side and allowed himself to be pulled across Steve's lap.

It was a strange feeling, to have Tony in this position once more. Steve looked down at the man who appeared older than him... but he thought the man who'd been his friend was probably more mature than him; since he knew what he needed and could put voice to it... while Steve couldn't imagine doing the same thing.

But this was something they'd done more than once. And for the sake of the friendship they'd once shared... Steve would do this to help Tony. And in this, they'd be on the same side. Even if they couldn't be in anything else. He wouldn't be able to help himself... he'd have to deal with his guilt.

But the man who'd once been his friend didn't have to any longer.

Steve wrapped his arm around Tony's waist, drawing him against his stomach. He lifted his hand and let it fall in the first hard smack.

 **The End**


	4. Crushed

**Crushed**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the television series the 100 and I'm not making any money from this fic

 **Summary:** Part of the month of mini-ficlets. Kane understands, better than anyone, how much Bellamy hurts

 **Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers for up to season three of the 100; violence

* * *

This wasn't the first time the irony had struck him. Kane had been responsible for the deaths of many of his people on the Ark... deaths he'd realised were unnecessary, but which had ultimately changed him into a better man... or so he liked to believe. In many ways, he felt he and Bellamy were similar; but while the pain of those deaths (though they weighed heavily on his heart) caused Kane to strive towards a peaceful resolution... Bellamy had allowed himself to travel a much darker path. A path Kane knew well, because it had been his own downward spiral.

A downward spiral he'd halted, with the help of his friends... even if Thelonious Jaha now bore little resemblance to the man Kane had considered closer than a friend. And Kane could see a lot of himself in Bellamy, which was why he hoped to get through to the much younger man. Maybe it was too late... but Kane knew he couldn't stop trying. He couldn't stop trying to get through to _all_ of them.

There'd been enough bloodshed on both sides.

Kane had no doubts Pike was watching him closely. If the man thought Kane was cowed, he was a fool... and Pike was no fool. Badly wounded by so many deaths he'd seen? Of course. Close to running a dictatorship? Undoubtedly.

It seemed so long ago now that Kane had made his own bid for power... power he'd come to realise he never wanted, after he knew how much it had cost him. So many people had sacrificed themselves. So many people had died... unnecessarily.

His sense of responsibility for those deaths would never leave him, but he'd vowed to do what he could to halt any further bloodshed. Even when it meant putting himself in the line of fire. Even when it meant taking drastic measures to turn one of Pike's minions back down the path he _should_ be taking.

The knock on the door, firm and confident, drew Kane out of his thoughts. Standing, he walked over and opened the door, stepping back to allow Bellamy to step into his room.

"You wanted to see me... sir?" The pause just before the 'sir' made it clear where Kane stood in Bellamy's estimation.

Kane nodded and closed the door before he turned to Bellamy. "I want you to make the right decision."

Bellamy's face showed hostility. "That's what I _am_ doing."

"Bellamy... son." Kane used the term of address and saw the way it affected Bellamy, no matter how he tried to hide it. "I've been on this same path as you. I thought killing people on the Ark was the right thing to do... but all that kind of violence does is beget more violence, until neither side wins."

"Neither side is winning _now_."

"You're right. But before Pike took power, we had a chance." Kane looked into Bellamy's eyes, trying to reach the good person he _knew_ was there. "If we continue down this path, there will be no victory. Only insurmountable losses."

Shaking his head, Bellamy turned to leave. "This is a waste of time."

"You feel responsible for their deaths."

"Like you."

"I know what it is to feel that kind of guilt." Kane stepped closer to Bellamy. "You trusted the wrong person and it hurts. But you don't have to torment yourself over this any longer. And when your head is clear? If you still believe in Pike's ideals, I'll no longer attempt to change your mind. But his path will only lead to more and more bloodshed until there's nothing left."

When Bellamy turned to look at Kane, his face was young... haunted... almost desperate. "It was my fault." He swallowed.

"It feels that way... but it wasn't. It wasn't your fault." Kane didn't point out that Bellamy's responsibility would grow the further down this path he went. He reached for Bellamy, putting an arm around his shoulders... relieved when he didn't pull away.

His arm around Bellamy to keep him close, Kane stepped over to his simply-made bed, speaking quietly to the youngster even as he did so. "I'm not going to lie to you. This will hurt... but the pain _will_ fade and it _will_ give you a chance to safely release your emotions."

Bellamy stiffened when Kane sat on the bed. His whole body grew tense, even though he didn't physically fight, as Kane pulled him down across his lap. Kane rubbed his back, feeling the muscles bunched under his hand, before he tugged Bellamy's pants down to bare his backside.

 _Now_ , Kane spoke... as his hand rebounded sharply off the naked bottom across his knees. "The Ice Nation destroyed Mount Weather. Not you. And not the rest of the Grounders. Would you hold a child responsible for their parent's actions? A sister for her brother's? If our people from the Ark are individually responsible for our own decisions... why are the Grounders any different?"

By that time, Kane had completed two full circuits of swats and he heard Bellamy beginning to react, shifting a little across his lap. He slid Bellamy forward and began swatting the creases between his bottom and thighs. "The people you and Pike murdered... they had families. People who wanted them to come home. The _only_ reason you and Pike were able to slaughter them was because they didn't know they were in any danger from you. You betrayed people who _trusted_ you."

When he heard the first quiet sob, Kane stopped. His words might have been spoken to himself... but he didn't deny Bellamy the forgiveness he himself had so desperately sought. Carefully pulling the younger man's pants back into place, he helped Bellamy off his lap and wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug.

Bellamy stiffened... and then slumped against Kane's shoulder, his tears audible, clinging on tight... as if he were a child desperate for comfort.

Or a man who needed someone to understand.

 **The End**


	5. More Than Anything

**More Than Anything**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the television series the 100 and I'm not making any money from this fic

 **Summary:** Part of the month of mini-ficlets. Tag to the season three episode Stealing Fire. Bryan has made his decision... but he feels guilty

 **Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers up to and including the season three episode Stealing Fire

 **Pairing:** Miller/Bryan - slash; canon relationship

* * *

Making his decision hadn't taken long at all, because really, it wasn't just about choosing _who_ was more important... it was about choosing what was right. And Bryan had thought about it... and he knew Pike's way was wrong. _Had_ been wrong from the start, if he was honest. The only thing holding him at the Chancellor's side was the fact he owed Pike his life.

But even more important than that... was _Nathan_.

Bryan didn't think he was a coward, but it had taken him far too long to muster up the courage to tell Nathan what he'd decided. But it wasn't even about that. From the moment he'd planted the bug on his boyfriend, he'd felt guilty and like he'd broken Nathan's trust. While he didn't regret coming clean... he couldn't imagine Nathan being able to trust him again, even though he was secure in his place in his boyfriend's affections.

As he reached the room he and Nathan shared, Bryan was relieved he hadn't run into Pike or any of his fellow soldiers. He was almost certain that his traitorous thoughts showed on his face.

Forcing down the urge to knock (Nathan hadn't told him to leave. He hadn't broken up with him), Bryan opened the door and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

Nathan paused in the act of checking his weapons and looked at him. He didn't say anything... but if Bryan had harboured any doubts about his decision, one look at Nathan's face would have shattered all of those.

Bryan didn't speak. He didn't need to tell Nathan he chose him, because what other choice _was_ there? And Nathan must have read the decision on his face, because he reached Bryan in a few quick strides. Reaching out, he clasped Bryan's neck, drawing him in close for a deep kiss.

Pressing closer to his boyfriend, Bryan allowed himself to be kissed... but he couldn't shake the feeling he didn't deserve this. Nathan had trusted him, even though they'd been on opposite sides. He'd betrayed him.

Nathan must have sensed Bryan's hesitation, because he pulled back to look into his eyes, his hand absently stroking the back of his neck. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No... never," Bryan promised. "But..." He swallowed. "I planted the bug on you... I broke your trust..."

Nathan closed his eyes briefly. "I've been listening in to Pike and his plans with Kane. You're not the only one who feels like they've betrayed people who trusted them."

"But you're my boyfriend."

Nathan squeezed his shoulder. "And I love you. I know you love me. Being on opposite sides was hard. I know that turning against Pike is hard. I forgive you for planting that bug... will you forgive me for being so distant?"

Bryan shook his head. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I should have trusted you'd do the right thing."

Bryan didn't know how to explain that, to him, it wasn't the same thing. He'd taken advantage of Nathan's trust in him to plant that bug... and even though his boyfriend had been listening in to Pike, Nathan hadn't bugged _him_.

Nathan gently patted Bryan's shoulder and the next thing he knew, he was being led over to the bed. Swallowing, Bryan didn't pull away. "What are you doing?"

"Feeling guilty isn't going to help. You can't forgive yourself? Then I'm going to help you." Nathan's voice was calm as he sat down on the bed and gently pulled Bryan over his lap.

This wasn't the first time Bryan had been in this position... not even the first time with his boyfriend, although those had been more for erotic purposes than what he suspected Nathan had in mind now. Swallowing, he let his head drop against the blanket, unable to help tensing up as his pants were eased down to bare his backside.

"I love you."

Nathan's declaration rang clear in Bryan's ears as his boyfriend started spanking him. Bryan squirmed uncomfortably, unable to shake the feeling that, no matter how Nathan worded it, he _was_ being punished for betraying his boyfriend.

The smacks were hard, though not unbearably so. Bryan grunted at first, but when Nathan's hand began covering already-swatted territory, he felt tears fill his eyes... tears that were more to do with the guilt he didn't need to carry around than the pain of the spanking. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry," Nathan said. "No matter what happens, nothing is going to change my feelings for you. I'm not angry with you. But you need to let go of this... because we've weathered everything else. I don't want this to be the thing that breaks us."

As if Nathan's words were the permission he needed, Bryan slumped over his boyfriend's lap, sobbing softly. He felt himself lifted into Nathan's arms and immediately latched onto the warmth and comfort.

It only took a few moments for Bryan's tears to die down and when he was calm, he felt his chin grazed as Nathan touched him, coaxing him to raise his head so that they could kiss.

And this time, there was no urge to pull back from what he felt like he didn't deserve.

 **The End**


	6. Mended Hearts

**Mended Hearts**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Snow White and the Huntsman, or The Huntsman: Winter's War, and I'm not making any money from this fic

 **Summary:** Part of the month of mini-fics. A quiet interlude between two lovers

 **Warning(s):** Spanking (of the one-swat variety); spoilers for Snow White and the Huntsman and The Huntsman: Winter's War; mentions of violence; hints of sexual scenes

* * *

Eric held Sara close as she slept, stroking one of her plaits between his thumb and forefinger. He still couldn't quite believe he had his wife... alive and in his arms... and no longer trying to kill him. He'd known that their love could defeat anything... but it was nice to have that confirmed.

As he thought about Freya, Eric's eyes narrowed. He should feel relieved that she and her toxic sister were dead... but there was a part of him that grieved her passing. In her own way (and despite the laws she had against love), he knew she'd cared for them... and at the end, she'd given her own life to protect them from her sister.

Even if he wasn't sure he could forgive her... but then again, Eric didn't really believe his own actions could be forgiven. He'd had a true mother once, but had been ripped from her arms. Until their decision to leave, he'd allowed war... battle... blood... death... to be the only important thing.

Until he'd tried to leave.

With his free hand, Eric touched the pendant Sara had given him seven long years ago. It had never occurred to him to take it off... and he hadn't understood why she'd seemed so surprised to see that he had.

He knew better now, of course.

Eric allowed his fingertips to brush over Sara's cheek, where it rested on his bare chest, careful to make his touch as light as a feather. Like him, she would wake at the slightest noise... the faintest provocation.

He'd missed her... _grieved_ her for so long. It was almost impossible to fathom that he had her now, safe in his arms... and they were finally both _truly_ free. They could live a life together... perhaps even have children, something Eric hadn't allowed himself to consider even when they'd first been together.

"Can you not sleep?" Sara's voice was soft... husky from the heaviness of sleep.

"I am just enjoying the peace and quiet." Eric smiled. "The chance to be temporarily free of the dwarves."

"I'm sure you would very quickly grow bored without them in your company." Sara smiled, her lips tickling his bare skin. She kissed her way up his chest until she came to his neck and then nestled in close, her head tucked between his head and shoulder. "I am sorry." Her voice was a mere whisper.

"For last night? I think I must have been doing something wrong if you're apologising."

"I betrayed you."

"You shot an arrow at me... but it could have been worse."

Sara raised her head to look into his eyes. "How could _that_ have been worse?"

"You could have been aiming to kill me."

Sara shook her head. "I should have trusted you... I just thought... I _believed_ Freya..."

Eric didn't want his wife feeling guilty. He wanted her to let go of her pain and be with him... _truly_ with him, heart and soul and mind. They belonged with each other. They belonged _to_ each other. And guilt would help neither of them.

Eric lifted the arm he had wrapped around Sara's body and shifted his hand lower, judged the distance and brought it down on her backside.

Sara's wide eyes met his and a faint note of outrage slipped into her voice. "Did you just...?"

"Yes." Eric cut her off. "And I can carry on, if our history together really bothers you that much. _Or_ ," he continued, looking into her eyes, "we can forget our past and live the rest of our lives together... starting with tonight, since neither of us seem inclined to get much sleep."

Sara hesitated and Eric wondered if he was going to need to take further steps. The intensity on her face grew, however, as she leaned in to press her lips against his.

Grinning, Eric rolled them over so he was on top of her. "Now _this_ is how I like our 'fighting' to go."

 **The End**


	7. Damaged

**Damaged**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the Divergent film series and I'm not making any money from this ficlet

 **Summary:** Tag to Allegiant Part One. Caleb may not be as genetically damaged as those outside believe

 **Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers for the Divergent series up to Allegiant Part One; some references to violence; AU

* * *

Caleb should have felt at peace. Even if he couldn't empathise (or so those outside the wall claimed)... he'd succeeded in what he was supposed to do. He'd made himself indispensible to everyone, so they couldn't punish him for taking what he'd thought was the right path.

But he wasn't content.

He wasn't sure _why_. He'd thought it was because there was nothing to stretch his intelligence; nothing to challenge him after what he'd seen outside the wall.

It hadn't taken long for him to realise there'd been _less_ challenges for him then; at least personally.

Caleb was used to acting in what he felt was everyone's best interest. He'd never thought to question _why_ he wasn't so emotionally close to his parents and Beatrice. Since joining Erudite, everything in him had become devoted to Jeanine and her cause. He'd never thought to question her... never thought about what his defection would cost his sister.

Now? He could think of little else.

There was so much rebuilding that had to be done. Caleb knew Beatrice was busy with Four and planning how to handle those outside the Wall... and, of course, she had Four to help her. He wasn't sure how Evelyn fit into it all, but he didn't expect Beatrice to currently have any time for _him_.

And Caleb wasn't used to needing anyone in an emotional way.

The technology wasn't as good as it had been outside the wall, but Caleb was filling up his time with making technological maps of what he remembered of the outside. Sooner or later, they'd have to take the fight to them.

At least, that was the _logical_ path to take.

Realising he wasn't alone in the room, Caleb glanced up and saw Beatrice standing there. It was still something of a shock to see her looking so different, but he tried hard not to show that.

He didn't want Beatrice to feel uncomfortable. He might not be certain of everything, but she was still his family. "Do you need something?" There was a lot more he wanted to say to her, but he couldn't put any of it into words.

"What are you doing?" Beatrice stepped closer to him.

Caleb's smile was hesitant, but this was the first time Beatrice had come to speak to him when she didn't need anything. "I've been working on maps. I thought... they might be useful?" His voice rose in a question on the last word, as he couldn't quite hide his uncertainty.

Beatrice's return smile was happier than Caleb had seen it in a while and she stepped over to him, glancing at the screen. "Thank you. I didn't say anything before, but... thank you. For everything you did."

"You don't need to thank me, Beatrice. You're my family."

"Is that all there is to it? Or is this just the most logical path?"

The words hung in the air between them and Caleb stared at the screen, unable to make eye contact with his sister. "Beatrice..." he started, stopped, then tried again. "No matter what you do... no matter what path you take... I will _always_ be on your side."

"Caleb, look at me."

She'd walked round to his side and he raised his eyes to hers. He didn't know what she was looking for. His sincerity? He didn't know how those kinds of things were measured, but he forced himself to say it... what was in his head. "I'm sorry."

"I know."

"No." Caleb swallowed. "Not the... sorry that doesn't really mean anything. They told me I'm damaged genetically. That I value intellect more than emotion. Even if that's true... I'm still sorry."

Beatrice shook her head. "Don't apologise for what you can't control."

"But maybe you can _help_ me," Caleb suggested. "What Evelyn was doing... what she was _going_ to do to me... how can anyone learn from that?" He'd been working at it like he would any problem and there was only one real conclusion he could come to. "We would have learned better from punishment... not execution."

"I don't think I understand."

Caleb smiled. "Yes you do." He was certain his sister's emotional understanding far surpassed his own. It was nearly impossible to read Beatrice's face and he shifted, feeling unusually anxious. "I... know it should be the other way round, but you're more whole than I am, so..."

They were alone in the room and Beatrice walked over to the door, closing it gently. When she turned back to Caleb, he couldn't read her face, but her words sent a shot of relief through him. "Stand up. Give me your belt."

Caleb's hands fumbled at his waist and he stood and pulled the belt through the loops. He handed it to Beatrice and then waited.

Beatrice took a deep breath and spoke with a set look to her face. "Turn round."

Caleb nodded to show he understood and turned, bracing his hands automatically on the surface closest to him. He breathed deep when he heard his sister step to his side and let his breath out in one sharp gasp when his own belt impacted his behind.

The strikes weren't very hard. Caleb's white-knuckled grip wasn't just because of the pain, though. This was personal... being held accountable for his actions. He'd asked his sister for help. No matter her own feelings, she was doing this for him.

And maybe... maybe he wasn't too damaged for _her_.

 **The End**


	8. Idiot Boyfriend

**Idiot Boyfriend**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the Avengers comics and I'm not making any money from this fic

 **Summary:** Follows the issues of the Children's Crusade. Teddy has a discussion with his boyfriend

 **Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers up to and including the Children's Crusade arc of the Avengers comics; some mentions of violence

 **Pairing:** Teddy/Billy

* * *

Billy wondered if it would be easier to have a boyfriend more likely to give him the silent treatment than to yell at him. Still grieving Cassie (and wondering what kind of havoc Iron Lad was likely to cause), Billy had so far managed to avoid the inevitable confrontation with Teddy.

As they returned from the Avengers mansion, Billy knew he wasn't going to get out of the conversation... or, rather, scolding he was sure he was going to get.

"What are you going to say to your parents?" Teddy followed Billy to his bedroom, closing the door as soon as they were both inside.

"I think they're all going to understand." Billy looked at his boyfriend. "The biggest problem is going to be bringing the others back together... at least the ones who are still here." Billy couldn't stop the hitch in his voice as he thought about Cassie and the Vision.

He couldn't stop wishing to bring them both back, but he didn't have that kind of power. And knowing how much it had cost the Scarlet Witch... he couldn't in good conscience ask his mother to try and get her creation magic back.

Teddy crossed over to Billy's bed and sat down, a serious look he didn't often wear directed at his boyfriend. "That's not the biggest problem you're facing."

Billy winced. "I know you're upset..."

"Upset?" Teddy shook his head. "I'm not even angry... not anymore, at least. Of course, when I found you, I was tempted to sit on you to stop you running away."

Billy fought to keep the smile off his face at that image. "I wasn't running away."

"You didn't trust any of us to have your back." Teddy held up his hand to forestall the protest Billy was about to make. "You didn't trust us to trust _you_. Because if you believed in us, you would have taken Tommy with you, at least. She's his mother as much as yours."

"Tommy never believed it."

Teddy snorted. "Can you read minds now?"

"He didn't care."

"Did you give him the chance to?" Teddy leaned forward slightly. "Did you give _any_ of us a chance? No. You went to Latveria, alone, because there was still a part of you that didn't trust us to have your back."

If Teddy had been angry and shouting, it would have been easier to take than the quiet note of pain Billy could hear in his boyfriend's voice. "I'm sorry."

"That's what you said in the letter."

"It's still true."

Teddy pulled his gaze from Billy to glance at the door. "Can you put up a silence shield?"

 _I want no sound to escape this room._ "It's done."

"Good. Now come here."

Billy stiffened. "I'd rather not."

Teddy pinned Billy with his gaze. "I think I'm a fairly straight-forward guy. You lied to me. You broke my trust. And it's been eating you up inside. I can see that." Pausing, he added, "I've also seen how much it's damaged the Avengers and the X-Men."

"We're the only ones of the Young Avengers left."

"No. But we don't stand a chance of reuniting if one of our members is going to get away with lying and breaking trust... not least because I know how guilty he feels." Teddy held eye contact with him. "I love you. You know that. Just like how I know the guilt is eating you up inside so much, you're just going to do something _else_ stupid."

Billy's shoulders slumped and he walked over to Teddy. "It would be nice if you _didn't_ know me so well."

Teddy's only response was a quiet snort as he grasped hold of Billy's hands, settling him across his lap. "If I didn't, we'd both be in a lot of trouble."

Billy didn't fight the position, though he stiffened uncomfortably. When his boyfriend pulled his pants and underwear down, he considered using his powers. If he wished himself away far enough, Teddy wouldn't be able to find him again unless _he_ allowed it.

But Billy didn't want that. He didn't want his powers to run unchecked. He _trusted_ Teddy to step in with him... to know when Billy needed to be brought back.

Still... Billy winced when Teddy's hand descended for the first time... it _hurt_ when his boyfriend stepped in.

Every time Teddy's hand connected with his bare skin, Billy flinched. His boyfriend was stronger than him and although he knew Teddy was holding back, the pain still accumulated... more so when Teddy's palm began covering territory it had already visited.

Teddy was uncharacteristically silent during the spanking, which had the effect of forcing Billy to think on all the mistakes he'd made. _Could_ he had saved Cassie and the Vision? Maybe not. But if he'd trusted them, if he'd worked with them as a team, maybe it could have gone differently.

Teddy was right. The guilt was crippling. But with each bad thought that appeared in his mind, Teddy's hand succeeded in driving it back, until all that was in Billy's world was his boyfriend's hard hand, spanking faster.

Billy couldn't pinpoint exactly when he started crying. All he knew was that he was slumped forward over Teddy's lap, nearly blinded by his own tears... but the terrible, crushing weight that had been his constant companion was gone.

The next thing he knew, Billy was cuddled on Teddy's lap, cheek resting against his broad chest, cuddled as close as he could get. He gulped back his tears, leaned up and pressed his lips against Teddy's.

The kiss was deep and passionate, carrying none of his lingering guilt. "I love you."

"Yeah. And I love you." Billy pulled back to look into his eyes. "But we have responsibilities and there's someone who needs you desperately."

"I don't know if he'll listen."

"You have to try."

Billy closed his eyes and pulled his clothing into place. "I want to find Iron Lad. I want to..."

 **The End**


	9. Turned Away

**Turned Away**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the Avengers comics and I'm not making any money from this fic

 **Summary:** Companion piece to Idiot Boyfriend. Billy finds Nathaniel

 **Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers for the Marvel comics up to and including The Children's Crusade; AU

* * *

It didn't matter what he did. He couldn't save her.

Nathaniel tried again. He'd crossed his own time stream so many times, he wasn't just seeing himself as Kang. He was seeing several copies of Iron Lad, all with one goal in mind.

To save _her_.

Eventually, Nathaniel had to step out of the time stream, just to take stock of the situation. Just to figure out what he _had_ tried... and what he still needed to try.

Nathaniel recognised the planet he was on, even though Kang and the other Young Avengers (now grown) were gone. He'd changed the time stream and saved Billy's life, so maybe he had put in enough of a dent to change his own fate.

But the cost was too high.

"You can't keep doing this."

Nathaniel flinched at the voice that sounded behind him. Turning, his gaze locked on Billy... but it was the Billy of his present time; not the Billy as an adult who might still have been friends with Kang. "I have to make it all right."

"I know you're grieving." Billy stepped closer to him. "And I understand wanting to change things when you have the power to. I saw how happy you made Cassie when you saved her dad... but just because you _can_ do something doesn't mean you _should_."

"You sound like one of the Avengers." Nathaniel couldn't hide his suspicion. Was this really Billy? Or was it another trick of his future self?

"I just had my _own_ mistakes explained to me very well." Billy winced visibly. "I'm sure the other Young Avengers will have something to say... hopefully not as painfully as my boyfriend, but Teddy was right. I made some big mistakes in how I handled things and I shouldn't have tried to do it all on my own. I should have trusted my friends." He stepped closer. "That includes you."

Nathaniel was wearing his iron suit, but it felt like Billy could see through that. He didn't like feeling this vulnerable, even with someone who was supposed to be his friend.

Especially since he knew they weren't going to _stay_ friends.

"Why are you backing away?" Billy paused. "I'm your friend. You know that."

"You're going to try and stop me."

"Have you thought that maybe you _should_ stop?"

"I can't." The words escaped him almost as a moan. How could he get Billy to understand that? If he just made the right choice... took the right path...

"Then I suppose I'll have to make you."

When Nathaniel would have questioned Billy, he shivered in the sudden cold. Looking down at himself, he realised his armour lay on the ground all around him... leaving him wearing his thin shirt and trousers.

"I can't force you to do anything... but I'd like you to walk over to me." Billy's voice was calm, but held an almost hypnotic note to it.

Nathaniel stood still. The loss of his armour frightened him more than anything could have done. Had Billy had enough? Did stop him really mean kill him? Before his whole world had been turned upside down, a part of him would have fought his own death. _Now_? His only concern was Billy making himself into what they'd fought.

He was tired. Ever since discovering time travel, his whole being had been focused on preventing himself turning into Kang. Billy was probably the person Nathaniel trusted the most. He wasn't going to run again.

As Nathaniel walked over to the person he'd do anything to save, each step seemed to force a weight to leave him. By the time he stood in front of his friend, it was as if the terrible burden of his own fate was lifted.

Billy looked into his eyes. "I'm not going to kill you."

"Maybe you should."

"There are other ways to halt the path you're on." Billy's voice was quiet as a large rock appeared behind him. He reached out and grasped hold of Nathaniel's arm.

Almost as fast as if Billy had used magic, Nathaniel found himself sprawled across his friend's lap. His thin trousers didn't offer his backside much protection and it didn't take long for him to start squirming as Billy quickly settled into a pattern of smacks, working over every available inch of his bottom and thighs until they felt like Billy had used his power to set them alight.

Could Nathaniel force Billy to stop? It was possible. The swats were painful, but Nathaniel could still gather himself. They'd both had similar training and he could struggle against submitting.

But... this was Billy. Not just Billy spanking him, but Billy taking him in hand. For the _first_ time, he felt like he wasn't alone. His friends had known his fate, but they'd accepted it was his own duty to avert it.

And the loneliness had been crippling.

Nathaniel didn't realise he'd started crying until the sobs were choking him. Some dim part of him became aware of Billy drawing him into a tight embrace, but all he could do was cry into his friend's shoulder... as if his heart had been broken.

Which it had been... repeatedly.

Billy hugged him, hard and tight. "You told Cassie you could stay indefinitely... I'm asking you the same thing."

Nathaniel was crying too hard to talk. All he could do... was nod.

 **The End**


	10. Unforgiven

**Unforgiven**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from Avengers: The Children's Crusade and I'm not making any money from this fic

 **Summary:** Scott's guilt summons Doom's facsimile

 **Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers for the arc of The Children's Crusade; some mentions of violence; sadistic

* * *

The nightmares kept coming back.

Scott climbed out of bed, careful not to wake Emma. He couldn't blame Wanda for _these_ nightmares... though she hadn't helped. He walked out onto the balcony and stared out at the world, forever tainted by the goggles he had to wear... for his own sake and the protection of others.

At least Wanda had never dangled sight in front of him, only to snatch it away again.

Scott was sure Doom had never intended to return the mutants' abilities. Whether or not Wanda would have done... at least she would have been the enemy he _knew_.

He didn't want to admit he couldn't get Billy's words out of his mind. It had been easier to think of Wanda as merely a villain... not that she'd made mistakes, the same as they all had. Because then who could Scott be angry with?

But Scott didn't need to think hard on that answer. Much of his anger was directed at himself. Wanda had just been a convenient... _easy_... target, after everything that had happened. Losing control of her powers... hurting people unintentionally.. Scott had done that.

His own words rang inside his head. If forgiveness wasn't possible for Wanda, how could it be for him? For _any_ of them? He hadn't acted like a leader.

Scott clenched his fists, hard enough for his nails to dig into his palms. He'd screwed up. He'd made mistakes... how was that any different? Just because Wanda's power reached a larger scale...

How could he face her... after he'd done his best to hurt her? After he'd answered her entreaties for peace with threats and violence?

Scott turned back to look through at Emma in the bed, wishing he still had access to the Danger Room. He could have done with beating someone... or maybe even getting a beating himself, given the strength of his guilt.

 _If that's what you want..._

His surroundings fell away, leaving Scott in darkness. A pinprick of light formed and grew, until it resolved into Doctor Doom's form... whole and healed, as it had been while battling it out with them.

Scott's hand flew to his goggles... but dropped when he found only skin and his eyes. Of course Doom (if he existed outside of Scott's own tortured mind) would take away his defences. "What do you want?"

"The same thing you do."

Scott's mouth fell open, but he found himself without the ability to speak. Was it shock... or Doom's doing? He found solid surface under him and stumbled backwards, but tripped over what felt like a bench.

Before the back of his head could collide with anything, Scott's fall was halted in midair. Invisible hands turned him face down and he found his hands and feet bound fast, bending him over what he still assumed was a bench.

"I think a beating is an appropriate response... but _this_ is far more humiliating."

Scott shivered as he felt his pants slide down over his hips, quickly followed by his underwear. He tested his bonds, but found himself held fast... and vulnerable.

Something cracked, hard and wide, across Scott's backside. His head jerked up as his mouth clamped shut around a shocked yell.

The second brand of fire was as painful as the first, with none of the surprise. Scott tried to push himself up, but he was a prisoner to Doom... helpless to defend himself against the sound thrashing he was being given.

Was this all in his head? Or was he being given the punishment he'd almost hoped for?

He couldn't fight it... and that was the worst. The tears that fell down his cheeks were hot and threatened to blind him.

And then it was over... and the one person he'd wanted to see was next to him, her arms wrapped around him in a hug that offered more comfort than he felt he deserved. He didn't know if it was motherhood or something else... but whatever it was, he was grateful.

 **The End**


	11. A New Family

**A New Family**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the television series The Shannara Chronicles and I'm not making any money from this fic

 **Summary:** Tag to the episode Safehold. Allanon connects to Bandon

 **Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers up to and including episode nine (Safehold) of season one

* * *

He was tired.

It wasn't just the physical exhaustion of fighting his young charge. Allanon was tired of living while everyone he'd known died. He'd tried to prevent Bandon forming attachments... making the same mistakes _he_ had.

But what else could he expect? Being a druid didn't make them unable to feel emotions... or even that those emotions were bad. But if Bandon got close to anyone, it wouldn't just put _him_ in danger.

Allanon sighed as he stepped over to Bandon's side. The Dagda Mor's influence was strong in the boy... and if the corrupted druid turned Bandon, it would be a devastating blow to the Four Lands.

As Bandon began to stir, Allanon stepped closer to him, pinning him in place. He watched gravely as the boy's eyes widened and he began struggling, panic fuelling his movements. "Let me go!"

"I can't." Allanon knew how much being tied... being _chained_... frightened Bandon. But until he knew Bandon was safe... until he could _trust_ the boy... he couldn't risk letting him go.

Bandon continued to struggle, his panic nearly as obvious as it had been when the Dagda Mor had captured his soul. Allanon wanted to try and reason with him... but it was clear Bandon wasn't going to hear him.

Not like this.

Allanon couldn't see any sign of the Dagda Mor's influence, but that didn't mean Bandon was safe and free. He _did_ know that he'd pushed Bandon much too far and that, if he continued to push him, he'd drive him away far faster than anything else could have.

Bandon's breath came in hard, sharp pants... but when Allanon released his magic, it seemed to take him several seconds to realise he was free. When he did, he slumped back against the mattress and closed his eyes. "Please don't do that to me again."

"The Dagda Mor is using you. He will force you to hurt the people you care about if you relax your guard even a little."

"Did that happen to you?"

Allanon stepped closer to the bed. "It is not me you should worry about."

Bandon looked away. "My parents kept me chained to stop me from touching any living thing. I scared them. They couldn't understand me."

" _I_ understand you."

"But you think I'm going to turn against you all... that I'm too weak to stand against the demons." Bandon made eye contact with him. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"I think that you will be a powerful ally for the Dagda Mor if he turns you," Allanon replied. "You need structure and guidance. I may push you, but only because I know you can be so much more powerful than you think."

"But I don't want to be like you." Bandon pushed himself up carefully.

Allanon could have pointed out that the two of them were already alike. His own tutor had cautioned him against forming emotional attachments... but he'd felt more than friendship. He still hadn't properly grieved for those who had died, but there would be time for that... once the demons were destroyed. Once Amberle returned with the seed. But Allanon knew he wasn't the one who needed help right now.

"What do you mean by structure and guidance?" Bandon asked.

Allanon sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "If you will not listen to me, you will be killed or worse. The Four Lands are in a lot of danger right now. Forming emotional attachments will give you weaknesses you cannot afford to have."

"But Amberle's supposed to return with the Bloodfire..."

"And if she doesn't... if she _fails_... we will face an entire army of demons." Allanon allowed himself to give voice to the possibility of failure... something he had not allowed himself to do to any of the elves.

Bandon looked away, swallowing. "What should I do?"

"You can work with me," Allanon answered. "Let me train you... and help you. You might not have your parents... but you _do_ have a family. Our powers bind us together." He met Bandon's eyes. "I will not bind you again."

"Thank you."

"But I _will_ do this." Allanon grasped hold of Bandon and gently drew him across his knee. Before the boy could react, he twisted his arm up behind his back, careful not to exert enough pressure to hurt him, and brought his hand down in a firm swat on Bandon's backside.

The boy went still as Allanon swatted his behind, careful not to use too much strength. He covered Bandon's backside with the firm, stinging swats and began speaking as Bandon began squirming and writhing. "Errors in judgement will get you punished. Misuse of your power will get you punished. But you are my apprentice and one thing that will _never_ change is that I will always be here for you."

Bandon's gasp was quiet... but his tears were audible as he slumped and Allanon paused, letting his hand rest on the boy's back. "It's finished." He helped Bandon up and into his arms, surprised at how natural giving the comfort felt.

 **The End**


	12. Rebellion Halted

**Rebellion Halted**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the BBC version of Henry IV Part One and I'm not making any money from this fic

 **Summary:** AU. Hal reveals to Hotspur his father's offer of surrender. Despite Hotspur's reluctance to believe in Hal's promise, Hal 'persuades' him

 **Warning(s):** Spanking; some violence; spoilers for BBC's version of Henry IV Part One; AU; obvious historical inaccuracies; lack of Shakespearan language

 **Author's Note:** This really is the final instalment in April's month of mini ficlets... though I might make a series with a similar theme.

This story is only intended as fan fiction of Henry IV Part two, with Tom Hiddleston and Jeremy Irons. Although I've tried to keep the language old-style, I didn't even try to mimic Shakespeare's language... since I couldn't do that.

* * *

Hal felt like he might collapse from the blood loss. He stared at Hotspur, sword raised as he waited for the other man to attack.

When Hotspur came at him, his movements were desperate... but Hal had expected that. His father had offered the rebels a chance to surrender and leave in peace. Now that the two of them were facing each other in combat, Hal knew only one of them was going to survive.

Hotspur lunged at Hal with his sword and the prince side-stepped, drawing his own blade round to clash against Hotspur's. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement... but when he stepped back and had enough room to see more than just Hotspur, he couldn't see anyone.

Hotspur was quick to come back at Hal, whose wound strained as he continued to block. Old lessons raced through his mind as he found himself on the defensive... which he knew wouldn't help him win this fight.

There was no triumph on Hotspur's face, even though he was winning the battle. The desperation he was obviously feeling seemed to give power and strength to his movements... and Hal knew he was going to have to put his enemy on the defensive if he was going to have any hope of winning.

Hotspur swung a strike at Hal's head and Hal dropped, his vision threatening to darken as pain sliced through him. He rolled and came up behind Hotspur, but the other man turned in time to catch the blow on his sword.

Knowing he had to distract Hotspur, Hal took a step back and blocked the blade before speaking. "You could have surrendered. My father would have kept his word."

Hotspur stared at Hal... as if he didn't understand the words. "You are trying to deceive me," he said. "There was no offer of surrender."

"Did your father and uncle not tell you?" Hal had said he'd face Hotspur in single combat... but he was wounded and he knew he would finish the battle with more wounds, even if he did defeat Hotspur. Besides, if his father had offered surrender Hotspur hadn't been told of... Hal wondered if he should allow Hotspur the same chance to surrender.

"I was told you intended to face me in single combat."

"And my father offered peace with no consequences if you surrendered."

Hotspur shook his head. "You're lying to me."

"I give you my word. I am not."

"I know of your reputation, Prince Henry. I am sure you are not telling me the truth." Hotspur swung his sword at Hal.

Stepping back and to the side to avoid the strike, Hal was reluctant to follow through with killing Hotspur. He was better at reading people, at least when he wasn't drinking, and he thought the other man wanted to surrender... but couldn't trust the word of the Prince of Wales. "If you would surrender... I will allow you to leave unharmed." He couldn't make the same promise for Hotspur's father and uncle... but they had sentenced Hotspur to death alongside them by withholding the King's offer from him.

"I know you will not."

Hal sidestepped another slice aimed at him from Hotspur... but as he found himself behind the other man, he struck him on the backside with the flat of his blad.

Hotspur jumped and spun round to face Hal, who knocked his sword to one side. He brought his sword down on the flat of Hotspur's blade and curved the blade under the other's weapon, jerking his sword up and forcing Hotspur to lose his grip on its hilt.

As the sword fell to the grass, Hal grabbed Hotspur and spun him round, forcing him against the trunk of the closest tree. Keeping Hotspur pressed there, Hal brought his sword back and hit again with the flat of it.

Hotspur jerked and Hal hit him again... and again. Each dull slap of the flat blade echoed through the clearing... though it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sounds of the battle.

Hotspur tried to push away, but Hal pinned him there. "I would kill you if you would prefer that... but I would rather punish you than take your life." He brought the blade down in a harder strike and felt Hotspur jerk under his hand.

Hal continued the thrashing, until he felt Hotspur stop fighting and slump against the tree. With one last strike from his blade, he released his hold and stepped back. "I have taken my vengeance... and now I have no reason to pursue you."

Hotspur reached down and took up his sword... but he didn't use it and put it away. He glanced around and then at Hal, studying his face.

And then, he was gone... as fast as a gazelle leaping away in the forest.

 **The End**


End file.
